


I Hope (This Doesn't Scare you Away)

by George_the_Pumpkin



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Funny, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings May Change, book rewrite from Lockwood's POV, oblivious dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/George_the_Pumpkin/pseuds/George_the_Pumpkin
Summary: Their family was splitting apart and now he has to fix it.-Basically a rewrite of The Creeping Shadow in Lockwood's POV.
Relationships: Anthony Lockwood & Holly Munro, Anthony Lockwood & Quill Kipps, Flo Bones & Anthony Lockwood, Flo Bones & George Cubbins, Flo Bones & Lucy Carlyle, Flo Bones/George Cubbins, George Cubbins & Anthony Lockwood, George Cubbins & Holly Munro, George Cubbins & Quill Kipps, Lucy Carlyle & Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins, Lucy Carlyle & Quill Kipps, Lucy Carlyle & The Skull, Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	1. Lost on You

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is also posted in my drabble collection. So if it seems familiar that's because it is.
> 
> The usual disclaimer- I'm not getting paid and everything belongs to Jonathon Stroud. Please support the official release.

Lockwood would never admit it to anyone, he could barely admit it to himself, but he had made a mistake. A pretty big one too. One that changed everyone in the company's lives. 

Lucy was gone.

And maybe it wasn’t all his fault but he felt like the blame was on his shoulders. It reminded him unpleasantly of how he felt when Jessica died and the world was falling down around him. He had ignored Lucy and pushed her away because he couldn’t deal with the anger that came from seeing her interact with  _ compassion _ to visitors. 

He had centered his whole life around his job. Creating his own agency at 14, destroying ghosts night after night because they had ruined his life and took everyone he loved. Lucy couldn’t be another Jessica. He would do anything to protect her because if Lucy died the world would stop turning. There was a hole in him that appeared when his parents died. It grew when Jessica was murdered feet away from him, and it stretched each time someone on his team was injured or  _ killed.  _ He couldn’t keep on living with this gap in himself, death would be a welcome reprieve.

It took every bit of self-control in himself when he first saw Lucy talking to the skull to not burn it. Agents could go mad talking to type three’s and Lucy nattered on to it constantly, and dare he say it, became  _ attached _ to it . But when he saw Lucy talking to that boy at the Wintergarden house and with no protection, he saw red. Why does it matter why ghosts came back or what they wanted. All that mattered was getting rid of them so no one else got hurt. There was no reason to  _ help  _ them. He argued about it often enough with George and his ridiculous research into the problem, but Lucy was crossing a line. George did research with nice, safe books whose only danger was a crushed toe. But Lucy was putting her  _ life at risk _ for a stupid visitor whose only thought was to kill the living. 

So he did the only thing he could that wouldn’t end with him shouting at her even more than he already had. He ignored her. He knew it wasn’t the best course of action, maybe even the worst thing he could do. The proof was there every time they talked, but he didn’t know what else to do. Lucy was the most stubborn person he knew, after himself of course, and he knew if she felt that this was the right thing to do then she would continue to do it no matter his opinion.

And so, he supposed, she chose the only option that was left in her mind. The very thing he was trying his hardest to prevent. He had spent hours in that cafe trying to convince her that she wasn’t a risk to them (only herself), but instead a valuable asset and she didn’t need to leave them, leave him. She left, quit the company, without saying a last goodbye. He had heard her when she left. Sneaking out in the early morning hours, where you don’t know if it’s morning or night. The stairs had creaked with her steps and her bag made a soft thumping noise with each step. He debated with himself on whether to say that awkward last plea to stay or to lay there and listen to the sounds of her fade from the house. He had gone to the door and almost pulled it open, his hand on the knob, but instead he leaned his head against it. Trying to fight the tears.

He didn’t know what would feel worse, losing her to a visitor, or losing her because of himself. He was inclined to believe it was the latter. But at least he had a chance, with the first option she would be dead and he didn’t really want to dabble in necromancy or anything like that. There was one bright spot in this haze of darkness that had enveloped him since Lucy had left. The hope that he could convince her to join the company again, join him. And then he could feel alive again.

He could tell that George and Holly were worried about him. George would stare at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. Holly would mother hen him. Piling whole grain waffles on his plate and constantly hovering over him. But the one that he hated the most, mainly because of the immense guilt it added to his already large pile, was when they would whisper about him. That combined with the fearful and concerned glances they gave him. He knew they worried about him and he  _ tried _ to pull himself together. But this black haze blocked everything except the purpose he had given himself all those years ago. So he threw himself into each case, pulling increasingly dangerous stunts with each one. They made him feel alive again, for a short while. He had quite a few new scars and fresh new reasons to hate visitors. His life had turned into a cycle of eat, solve cases, sleep, repeat. Really though, the only reason he slept and ate was because of Holly and George. Pulling him from his thoughts and reminding him that he needed to eat and get some rest. The only thing he did out of this cycle was stare at Lucy’s ad in the newspaper and the cases that she helped solve. George would glare at him whenever he caught him staring at the newspaper. 

He thought of this as he practiced his rapier work on floating joe. He would pull himself together. The world may have stopped turning when Lucy left but it could restart if he could just pull himself together. Then he could  _ do _ something about it. That bright spot in the haze grew brighter. He could do this. He wiped the sweat off his brow and ran a hand through his hair. A shower would be a good place to start.

It was by some miracle that Mrs. Fittes called on them a couple days later and gave them a case that needed a good listener. The knowledge that he had a reason to see Lucy after months of trying and failing to come up with one that wouldn’t end in her shutting the door in his face pulled the remaining haze from around him. Even just the thought of seeing Lucy made the world go round and the Lockwood charm to return full force. 

George harrumphed from his spot next to him in the kitchen. “I suppose this means you’ll be recruiting Lucy?” He was bitter about her abrupt departure but there was also a softness to his face that showed he would eventually forgive her. Lucy was family after all. And it was time to get a part of that family back.


	2. Nothing to Lose

Lockwood and Co. had never gotten many cases in Tooting. Oh, over the years they’d had some cases near Tooting. Like the memorable Underson Hearse case or the Suchant Murders. And who could forget the grisly halls of Miggens Mansion. For a while, it had seemed that poor George would never get all the gunk off himself after that casket fell on top of him. But now that Lucy lived there Tooting cases had dwindled down to nothing. 

It was no surprise then that due to his lack of, uh, familiarity with the area that Lockwood had gotten a tad bit turned around.

_ How hard can it be to find one apartment building,  _ I grumbled. Maybe I should have accepted George’s offer of a map.  _ But, oh no, George, I know where I’m going I said. I’ll only be a minute, I said. What could go wrong, I said.  _

I groaned. 

I really should have known better. But in my defense, I couldn’t concentrate. I was fantasizing about how my meeting with Lucy would go. 

Best case scenario Lucy doesn’t shut the door in my face and agrees to take the case. Worst case she shuts the door in my face as soon as she sees me. 

I bit my lip. 

Based on how things had gone last time we’d spoken either possibility seemed likely. Though, my heart hoped that the first scenario would happen. I wanted it so badly I could almost taste it. I would fight a thousand ghosts with a broken rapier, unearth a million sources with my bare hands if it meant that that hope could come true. Yet, at the same time, my gut was tying itself up in knots imagining all the ways this could go wrong.

Ever since Lucy had left it had been harder to access the Lockwood charm. My mask was crumbling. I worried sometimes that it would fall away completely. Leaving me a hollow shell of a person. 

After all, without my ambition. Without my desire to vanquish all the ghosts I could find. Who was I?

* * *

Finally, after an inordinate time spent walking around the back districts of Tooting before forcing myself to ask for directions, I arrived at Lucy’s apartment building. Gazing up at it I couldn’t help but think it was nothing special. It had a crumbling brick facade that seemed to be covered in several decades worth of grime. There were cracks in the cement stairs leading to the front doors which brandished dull metal handles. The yard was overgrown with thistles and weeds. The entire place smelled. 

I wrinkled my nose.

It definitely wasn’t Portland Row that was for sure.

Ascending the stairs, I paused briefly within the entrance to look over the apartment list. Most of the nameplates were old, yellowing at the edges, but there was one that was still a startling white. I smiled, relieved to see Lucy’s rushed scrawl on the pristine scrap of paper. Raising a finger I traced a path from her nameplate to the apartment number.

Bingo.

Forgoing the elevator, I dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time in my haste to reach her apartment. The stairway let out into a dimly lit hallway. A quick glance confirmed that I was close to my destination.

I set off determinedly down the hallway. I cast a bewildered glance at one apartment when it appeared that I was passing what seemed to be a small lavender factory.  _ Another testament to the fact that people, ahem adults, are strange.  _ Before I stopped at Lucy’s door. 

The plaque filled me with a sense of pride and sorrow. Tearing my eyes away from it, I notice a bag of laundry leaning against the wall.

_ I can hold her laundry hostage so can’t just shut the door in my face. That’s a great plan,  _ I thought.

Taking a moment to prepare myself to meet Lucy again; I relaxed my shoulders and put on my special Lucy smile. Steeling myself, I knocked on the door. 

My shoes scuffed nervously on the floor while I waited. A couple of increasingly agonizing minutes crept by. I shifted, squinted my eyes, pretended to look at my watch, knocked again a little louder.

_ Maybe, she isn’t here. She might be on a case. Stupid, stupid, why didn’t you think of this before? _

Another minute passes. The smile he wore was getting increasingly dimmer. 

_ I’ll just need to knock a little louder _ , I told myself.

I knocked again. I’d like to say that it was nearly a deafening rattle of fists on wood. There was no chance Lucy could  _ not  _ have heard me if she was home. But that wasn’t quite what happened. I’d really meant to knock loudly but as my fist collided with the door for a third time I found myself timidly brushing against the wood.

_ She’s on a case. Why else wouldn’t she open the door? _ I thought frantically. Then another thought hit me.  _ Agents are practically nocturnal, she could still be sleeping. _

This bolstered my confidence enough to knock louder. 

I leaned back, listened carefully, and let out a relieved breath as this time I could hear the shuffling of feet.

Stepping back and conveniently hiding the laundry behind my leg, I waited.

The door slowly opened and Lucy stood there, half asleep and confused. But the smile slid back onto my face. I hadn’t even realized that it had gone. Seeing Lucy for the first time in months was strange. She looked the same, yet different. Her hair was the same and her clothes but there were lines on her face that hadn’t been there a few months ago.

I watched as a slew of emotions crossed her face, shock, panic, embarrassment, confusion, and sorrow. 

“Hello, Lucy,” I said.

“Hi,” She straightened up and tried to fix her hair into a presentable state. “Hi,” she repeated. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit early. I see you haven’t been up long.” I said nonchalantly like I hadn’t just had a crisis over it.

The embarrassment and panic took center stage and I could see her trying to surreptitiously look around the landing. 

_ Ah, the laundry. What a perfect segue _ , I mentally gushed. 

“Are you alright? ” I asked. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” She answered. She seemed to be trying to convince herself of this as well as me. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Good. Oh, there was this package on your step.” I pulled out the package of laundry from behind me and really looked at it for the first time. Oh, I hope I wasn’t blushing. But this would be the perfect opportunity to tease Lucy. “Looks like it’s got a lot of… nicely ironed items in it. Don’t know if they’re…”

“Yeah, those are… those are my neighbor’s. I’ll look after it for him. For  _ her _ .” She swiped the bag out of my hand and threw it into the room.

That threw me for a loop. “You look after your neighbor’s underwear?” I looked back at the lavender factory door. Maybe that should have given me a clue. “What kind of an apartment building  _ is _ this?”

“It’s- Well, actually I-” She stopped and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Lockwood, what are you  _ doing  _ here?”

_ This was going swell! She isn’t going to shut the door in my face _ . My smile grew as my confidence and hope increased. “I wanted to check in, see that you were doing okay.” And when it looked like she was going to challenge me I added quickly, “And I’ve got something to ask you, too.” I glanced into the room and back. “If you’ve got the time that is.” 

“Oh. Yes. Yes, of course I have. Um, why don’t you come in?”

“Thanks.”

I stepped inside and looked around while Lucy closed the door behind me. 

“So this is your place,” I started. Lucy looked around with growing horror. “It’s… nice,” I said.  _ But you could have so much better at Portland Row _ .

My words seemed to calm her and she began to straighten with pride. “Thanks,” she said. “Look, do you want to sit down?”

I stepped closer to her bed. “No-! Not there!” Lucy was back to freaking out. Frantically gesturing as she went about the room trying to find a place not covered in dirty clothes or old wrappers. It was similar to her attic room except then it was more contained to her chair.

I decided to try and lessen her discomfort and pretended to ignore her mumblings. As I turned to the window, her squeals became louder. The ironworks and the industrial boiler company took up most of the view.  _ Why would she leave to come to this? _

“I’m actually quite happy to stand. So… this is Tooting, is it? It’s not an area that I know well, but it’s a pretty nice view you’ve got here…”

“Which part? The industrial boiler company or the ironworks?” She gave a little laugh. “It’s not exactly Portland Row.”

“No. Well.” I turned back around and looked at her. The longer I stood here the less I could imagine her here. Lucy was a bright light and this place was smoggy and grey. She didn’t belong here. It made him wonder how out of place she had looked in her hometown.

“So,” she said, “do you want some tea? I could do with some.”

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

I went back to staring at the cluttered floor. She had always been a chaotic mess. It had amazed me how she and George could be so disorganized at home but then be the exact opposite during cases. 

“How’s business with Lockwood and Co.?” Lucy asked. “I mean, I see you in the papers all the time. Not that I’m  _ looking _ for you, obviously. I just see stuff. But you seem to be doing okay, as far as I can gather. When I think about it. Which is rare. Do you take sugar now?”

“It’s only been a few months, Luce. I haven’t suddenly started taking sugar in my tea…” I noticed the skull by a pile of clothes.  _ The skull! Lucy loves the skull. I can use that as a way to bring up the Guppy case.  _

I nudged it with my foot. 

“Hey, how’s our friend here doing?” 

“The skull? Oh, it helps me out from time to time. Hardly talk to it, really…” the ectoplasm in the jar stirred. “Did you get someone else, then, to help you? Another agent?”

“I thought about it. Never got around to it.”  _ Because it felt too much like accepting you were gone forever, _ I continued in my head. “George wasn’t keen. So it’s just the three of us still, muddling along without you.”

Lucy looked conflicted. Like she was glad the team hadn’t changed but was sad that we hadn’t moved on. “And how  _ is _ George?” She asked.

You know old George. The same.” I said.  _ Though he’s become more fanatic in his experiments since you left. _

“More experiments?”

“Experiments, theories, weird notions. He’s still trying to solve the problem. His latest hobby is buying every new invention the Rotwell Institution churns out. He tests them to see if they work as well as good old-fashioned salt and iron. They don’t, of course, but that doesn’t stop him from filling the house with all manner of ghost-detectors, divining spindles, hex-wands, and things that look like teacups that are supposed to tinkle when a ghost draws near. All claptrap, basically.”

“Sounds like George hasn’t changed at all. And how’s Holly?”

“Hmm?”

“Holly.”

“Oh, good. She’s good.”  _ Aside from the fact that she’s blaming herself for your resignation _ .  _ I struggled to not blame her myself. _

“Great. … Can you flip the lid of the trash can open, please?”

“Of course.” I put my foot on the pedal and Lucy tossed the tea bag in. I moved my foot and the lid clanged shut. “Little bit of teamwork there.”

“Yeah. We still haven’t lost it.” She said and handed me a mug. All of a sudden the air seemed heavier, sadder. “So…”

I watched her and looked for any signs on how she would take my request. So far it was still looking like a fifty-fifty chance.

“You know, I think I  _ will  _ sit down, if you don’t mind.” News is always taken better sitting down, after all.

“Anywhere will do.”

I moved to sit on the chair and Lucy took the bed. Nursing my tea I tried to think of how to phrase it. I had practiced a dozen different versions, of course, but none of them seemed to fit now. 

“It’s nice to see you,” Lucy broke into my thoughts.

“You, too, Luce.” I smiled at her. It felt fantastic just being here talking to her. “You’re looking well, anyway; and I hear fine things about you from some of the other agencies. Sounds like you’re going great guns, doing the freelance stuff. I’m not surprised, obviously- I know all about your talents- but I _ am  _ happy for you.” Ever since that first interview, I have been impressed by her talent and by Lucy herself. I scratched behind my ear and thought of how to say what I’ve been thinking. Looking up I saw her scowling.

“Sorry,” Lucy said. “Just the skull. You know what it’s like.”

I set my tea down. 

_ That way if she gets upset with me I can leave quicker. Now or never, I guess. _

I looked around the room one last time before returning my gaze to Lucy. “I’m not sure this is really the place for you, Lucy.”

“Surely that’s my business.”

“Yes, yes, of course it is,” I said to placate her and because it was true. “And I’m not here to try to talk you out of it. I tried and failed at that months ago. You made your decision, and I respect it.” 

_ Even though I don’t like it. _

She cleared her throat. “It was the right thing to do.”

“Well, we’ve been down that road.” I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Anyway, the thing is Luce… I’ll get straight to the point. I’m in need of your help. I’d like to hire your freelance services for a case.” 

_ And hopefully, this will show you that we can become a team again,  _ he tacked on mentally.

I could see the words were chasing circles around Lucy’s head. Probably bringing up the memories of our last days together. Those days that I desperately wish to forget, but also to always remember. 

“Run that past me again, slowly.” Lucy was frowning. “You want to  _ hire  _ me?”

“I don’t ask it lightly. It’s just a one-off. A single case. One night’s work; two, max.” 

“Lockwood, you know my reasons for leaving…”

That anger I felt at the cafe resurfaced and I had to work to push it down. I shrugged but my smile had dimmed and there was a bite to my voice. “Do I? To be honest, Luce, I don’t think I ever fully understood them. You were frightened of unleashing your Talents on us, was that it? Well, you seem to have them sufficiently under control now that you’re doing great things with most of the other agencies in London.” I shook my head. Trying to rid myself of the burning anger. “Anyway, hear me out. I’m not asking you to join us again, obviously. I’d never do that.” 

And that hurt, like a dagger to the heart. 

“It’s just a temporary arrangement. It would be no different from you teaming up with Bunchurch, or Tendy, or whoever else you’ve been with these last few weeks. Just business, that’s all.”

“But you don’t need my help.” Lucy’s tone was flat and I could see she was shutting down. Maybe, I didn’t have to go that far to reassure her that I wasn’t asking her to join the company, yet. 

“Well, here’s the thing. We do.” I leaned forward, “You’re right, Lockwood and Co.’s been doing pretty nicely these last few months, well enough to be selective about our clients. We’ve had some interesting ones, like the blind dressmaker who saw ghosts imprinted on her own private darkness, but our latest is in a category of her own. You know her. It’s Penelope Fittes.” That certainly got her attention.

“Er, doesn’t she have an agency of her own? Rather, a big one, in fact.”

“Yes, but she’s taken a shine to us. She’s liked us ever since the Screaming Staircase affair. And after we saved her from assassination at the carnival last autumn, she’s made it her business to monitor our progress and send the odd job our way. Well, she's got a new case for us, quite a big one, and the thing is, by all accounts it needs a good Listener.”

She stared at me.

“A  _ very good _ Listener.”

She said nothing.

This isn’t part of what he thought might happen. He expected anger and energy not this… numbness. I shifted on my chair. “So… I wondered if you could help us out, just this once, in a freelance capacity…. You  _ are  _ the best, after all.”

She seemed to come back into the territory I was prepared for.

“What’s the case?”

I internally worried here would be the kicker. “I don’t know.”

She frowned and that worry increased by several degrees. “Don’t you think you ought to find out before dragging me into it?”

“It’s difficult and dangerous, that’s all I’ve been told. But Penelope Fittes is intending to brief us- by ‘us’ I obviously mean me, George, and Holly, but you could join, too, if you were up for it- tomorrow morning at Fittes House.” I was hoping that the pressure to decide would push her, hopefully into the decision I wanted. “You know how much of a recluse Ms. Fittes is, particularly after that carnival thing. It must be something special if she’s personally involved.”

“I still don’t get it. Why does she want _ you  _ to do this job? She’s got a million agents of her own.”

“Again, I don’t know, Luce. But if we do well, it’ll stand us in good stead for further commissions.”  _ But it will also show you that we still work together and that you don’t put us in danger _ .

“I’m sure it will, and that’s great for you, but I’m no longer part of Lockwood and Co., am I?”

“No. I’m well aware of that.”  _ How could I not be? _ I thought. “But you happily work with other agencies, don’t you?”

“Yes, you know I do, but-”

“What’s the difference?”

“Don’t pressure me, Lockwood. You know it’s not the same.”

She got up abruptly and threw a towel onto the ghost-jar. And sat down as abruptly as she had stood up. “What were we saying?”

“I’m not trying to pressure you, Luce.” 

_ Not in this way, at least. _

“I realize it’s odd, me just showing up, but if you’re worried about risk, the chances of anything going wrong are very small. Almost nonexistent. Maybe you had a wobble a few months ago, but personally I believe you’ve always had your Talent under excellent control. I don’t think there’s the slightest chance of you endangering us. You always were too strong for that. Sure, for whatever reason, you no longer want to be a full part of our team. It became a burden for you, one that could no longer be borne. That meant that you had to leave us in a hurry, which was difficult for you, I know, just as it was for us. We all had to pick up the pieces. I’m not going to pretend that Lockwood and Co. found it easy after you left…. George was pretty upset about it.” 

I looked at my hands.  _ And Holly… and me. I only just barely pulled myself back together and even then I’m probably liable to fly off the handle. _

I continued, “Anyway, I’ve no doubt these feelings of yours still remain. Teaming up for a night would be weird for all of us, but most of all for you. But I  _ do  _ think you could be strong enough to ignore the weirdness, Luce, if you thought it was the right thing to do. One night’s work, Luce… it’s almost nothing. Just helping us out. Who knows, it might make us  _ all _ feel a little bit better about things, I don’t know.”

I said my spiel and now all I could do was wait for her decision. I did think it would help us all heal these open wounds we all still have. And even if it didn’t cause Lucy to immediately change her mind, it would plant a seed of doubt that she had made the right choice.

“There are other Listeners out there. Good ones, too,” she said.

“Like who?”

“Kate Godwin’s okay.”

“Oh, come  _ on _ . She’s not half the Listener you are.”

“There’s Leora Jones of Grimble, Melita Cavendish at Rotwell…”

She was grasping at straws for reasons not to say yes.

“As good as you? You don’t believe that! How many of them can buddy up to a talking skull?”

“I  _ don’t _ buddy up to it.”

I made a face. The skull was a constant feature around her. And why would she even take it with her, if she didn’t like it? “Whatever. Besides, they’re not freelance, are they?”

She didn’t answer. There was silence for a while. The longer it went on the more the hope that had ignited in myself dwindled. I started to get to my feet. “It’s okay, Lucy. I understand your reluctance, and I don’t blame you in the slightest. I’ll go back and tell the others.”

She spoke slowly, “I suppose doing a job for Penelope Fittes might get me noticed.”

I hesitated but it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything more. “It very well might, yes.”

“And it would really help out Lockwood and Co., you say?’

“It really would, Luce.”

“So if it’s just a one-off…”

“Yes.”

“And you really think my Talent would make a difference…”

“There’s no one else I would want at my side.” Another reason George and I didn’t even really consider hiring a new agent. _Where was this leading? Was she actually going to say yes?_

“Okay,” She said. “You should know that my fees have gone up. There's a going rate for freelancers, but I charge ten percent more. And I don’t take orders from anybody. I come in as an independent consultant, and that includes strategy and risk evaluation. Everything we do has to be agreed upon beforehand. If you’re happy with those terms, and if you think George and Holly will be too, then I don’t see a problem with your proposal.” She held out her hand. “For one or two nights only. I’m in.”

_ There was no price too high or order too difficult to agree to her terms _ , I thought giddily. I probably literally sparkled. “Lucy, thank you. I  _ knew _ you wouldn’t let us down.”

And for the first time in months, I felt my usual grin stretch it’s way across my face. 

Our family was on its way to being complete again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the dialogue was taken from The Creeping Shadow. 
> 
> Again, Thanks for Reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for Reading! Hope you enjoyed it.


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